Mana Mirror: The First Gate, page 45
"Got it," she said, cracking her knuckles.
"Are you hoping my brother gets attacked?" Ed asked.
"No… definitely not," Liz said with a grin.
"You're terrible, Liz," I said.
"I love you, Liz," my traitor of a brother said.
My dad laughed and shook his head, and we headed home. Since it was so late, I made some coffee and began to work out some of the inefficiencies in my Briarthreads spell.
That occupied me until businesses began to open, and I headed out again, on my broom this time. There were a few mentalists nearby, and I checked all of them out, then made an appointment with the one that gave me the best vibes. They wouldn't be able to see me for two months, but I felt an odd sense of relief just from having made the appointment.
CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
I rolled the pill between my fingers as I lay in bed before I placed it in my mouth and began to draw its mana into my mana-garden.
I flowed the power towards Capture Moment. The pill was too large for me to swallow, but as its power streamed into me, it shrunk and shrunk.
The last thing that I remembered before I fell asleep was the faint taste of aniseed and currants on my tongue.
When I finally awoke, I was famished. I ate through three bowls of cereal by the time Meadow arrived. To my surprise, rather than wake up Ed and send us both out back to practice, she sat across from me at the table.
“I think it’s about time for you to think about breaking through to your second gate with life mana,” Meadow said. “And death mana too, unless you want to learn a few more spells for it.”
“I haven’t even constructed a staff yet, though!” I said. “But I definitely want to learn another death spell, and maybe another spatial one, too. And my time mana is still pretty… rough.”
“I didn’t say you should break through with all of your gates,” Meadow said, giving me a wry smile and shaking her head. “We’ll leave the conversation about death mana until you master your new spell, but I maintain that life is a good idea. With Briarthreads ingrained, you only need to ingrain your Enhance Plant Life spell and work out flaws, and then you’ll be perfect, unless you wanted to learn to do more with it. As for your staff, you’re right – you don’t have a second gate life material yet. I recommend you seek one out, though. Many powerful plants exist in the world, and mastering Enhance Plant life will come with time – and with alchemical experience, if you decide to go down that path. Which, speaking of, you should know that learning to craft basic healing potions can help you transition, not unlike how learning healing magic could have.”
“How?” I asked curiously.
“Well, in all of the methods you have to transition, all of them involve altering the mana and energy composition of the body. The way that most generalized healing potions work is flooding the body with excess life energy, allowing the body’s natural processes to convert that power into whatever is needed. Rudimentary and inefficient, but capable of dealing with most general wounds.”
“Right, that’s why doctors use specialized spells and alchemical equipment,” I said.
“Indeed,” Meadow said. “The drinking of healing potions will infuse extra energy into the body, which will be able to be used by the transition spells. Especially the Magister’s Body and the Beast Mage Soul.”
“Beast Mage Soul?” I asked.
“That’s one of the ones I plan to offer to you,” Meadow said. “Regardless, we should get back on the topic of you picking up new spells and advancing to your second gate. For death, might I suggest the Crow’s Shade Messenger or Vampiric Senses?”
“You’re welcome to suggest them all day long, but I don’t know what they do,” I said, grinning at her.
“The messenger spell is commonly used among witches with death or lunar mana,” Meadow explained, smiling back. “It calls out to the shade of a nearby bird capable of speech and offers a minor infusion of power in exchange for delivering a message. The more powerful you are, the further the message can be carried. A first gate mage usually can manage about a quarter mile per cast, which isn’t too far, but does have its uses, and as you grow, the distance will increase exponentially. It’s also the basis for much of necromancy, which is a powerful path.”
“And Vampiric Senses? I assume it’s going to enhance my senses, but how?”
“It uses a blend of life, death, knowledge, and other smaller aspects of mana like lunar and solar to help scent out blood and information the blood carries. Blood type, how fresh it is, if it’s been spilled or is in a body… It’ll essentially allow you to be a bloodhound, and will give you a general sense of blood that’s excellent for use in vampiric magic and blood magic, which is a path your life and death makes you well suited for.”
“Can I learn them both?” I asked. “They both sound really useful, just different. I don’t know too much about necromancy or blood magic. Both sound… Uh…”
I trailed off, uncertain of what to say.
“Both have rather bad reputations, and contain spells that are illegal and immoral. So does mind magic. A fireball can be used equally to defend the innocent as to burn down a hospital. Some spells are unethical, yes, so don’t learn those. Besides…” Meadow winked at me. “I suspect you’ll be learning a lot about necromancy and working with the spirits of the dead this Spirits-Walk, if you want to continue working with the Spiritwatch.”
“Yes,” I said. I’d been doing a lot of thinking, and the times I felt best were when I was helping people. I’d liked helping the small folk village deal with a Moorcat. I’d liked helping the terragon get protections. I’d liked finding the toad and knowing it would get back home. I’d even liked setting the spirits to rest when I’d done it.
I liked helping people, animals, and spirits.
All of my missions so far had been on the shorter side, but with Dusk, I’d be able to take on longer missions, or more complicated ones.
I’d also be able to take on Goetíea missions, but I shied away at the thought of doing that for the moment. I needed to patch things up with Alvaro, but I needed to finish my own healing first before I did that.
Dusk threw her arms around my neck in a hug, and I smiled.
“I think that both of them are a good idea,” I said. “I’m not sure I can pick just one yet, and there’s less flexibility with death than life, so I assume I can learn a bit of both?”
“A bit, certainly,” she nodded.
“Then definitely both,” I said. For a moment, I was worried she was going to have us go to the library to pick them up, but instead, she wrote them out on sticky notes and passed them over to me.
“What about other spatial spells?” I asked. “I feel like I need one more. Isn’t there some sort of… short-range teleport, or something else I can do with my first gate?”
“Both space and time tend to be very… middle to back loaded,” Meadow said, leaning on her staff. “Most of the low-level ones don’t suit a generalist super well. For example, Stabilize Space is a spell that takes up roughly half your first gate, and creates a powerful imbued effect to stabilize spaces you create. But you don’t plan to go into crafting spatial rings. Same goes for teleportation and warping space. Thus, the normal ‘base’ ones recommended for spatial mages don’t work as well for you.”
“I see,” I said. “That’s… a little disappointing, I won’t lie. I’d kind of hoped for more.”
“I didn’t say it was completely hopeless,” Meadow said. “I was able to dig out one. Are you familiar with the ungated spell for northfinding?”
“Kinda,” I said. “I know it exists, but I don’t know much else.”
“This is an extension of this spell. It will allow you to know the cardinal directions, as well as the location and rough distance of the nearest city teleport circle rooms, or spatial anchors you have set up with the purpose of interacting with this spell.”
“That’s… useful. A bit underwhelming, but still useful, for sure.”
“It’s the best I could do, unless you’d like to pick a single type of spatial magic and heavily specialize in it.”
“I… Not really, no. This spell it is, then! What’s it called?”
“Sense Directionality,” she said as she wrote it out.
“Fair enough,” I said. Taking the piece of paper, I looked over my three new spells.
The Sense Directionality spell was small, and would be easy enough to master. It was even smaller and less complex than Internal Pocketwatch, which at least meant it’d take a commensurately small amount of mana and effort.
Vampiric Senses and Raven’s Shade Messenger were both a little bit smaller than an Analyze spell was, but they definitely weren’t small. Probably comparable to Pinpoint Boneshard, I’d say.
Not too bad, all in all, but I still winced at the time it would take to master them. I was right on the border of breaking through with pretty much all of my gates but temporal, but I’d just had to mess it up.
No wonder Orykson had said I’d only be learning a handful of spells to get to third gate as quickly as possible. Taking these on, it would add even more time, and slow me down even more.
Was I okay with that?
Honestly?
Yes.
I’d take a firmer foundation over speed.
Orykson had overlooked low gate magic, claiming that ‘real’ magic only started at third gate.
If Meadow and Ikki hadn’t been here to show me spells, slowing my growth, I’d probably have been second gate in everything already, but I’d be an infinitely weaker mage than I was without them.
Meadow had been the one to help guide my synergistic life gate, producing something that had let me take on and defeat Mallory with relative ease.
I didn’t think low gate magic should be overlooked just because it was low gate. It was the foundation I built upon, and it should be solid.
I should be able to choose my spells, choose what path I walked.
Ikki had said the time of the old guard was gone, and… I agreed. I didn’t know what Orykson represented, but he was mysteries upon mysteries. I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was somehow linked to Mallory.
Meadow was open with me.
There may come a day when I would have to shed blood. But when that day came, I wanted it to be because I had no other choice, not because I decided to.
“Thank you, Meadow,” I said. “I have a question, though, if you don’t mind?”
“Of course.”
“What would you do if I just… decided to stop? I become your apprentice, get the transition spell, and then… stop. I just work with the Watches?”
“Would that make you happy?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” I said seriously. “But I want to know. What would you do?”
“I would be sad to see someone who clearly enjoys magic and learning about magic to simply stop growing, but if that would make you happy, then that would be what’s best for you. If you wanted to become my apprentice later in life, I’d do my best to make it happen.”
That, moreso than anything else, settled me.
“Meadow,” I said. “I accept. I’d like to look at the contract to be your apprentice.”
“Contract?” she asked, shaking her head and laughing. “No, I don’t use such a thing. If it would make you comfortable to have one, we can write one together. But I simply follow the bond of student and teacher.”
“Nothing?” I asked. “No favors owed, no… charge per hour of your time?”
“Hardly, child. If I wanted to do that, then I wouldn’t keep a simulacrum permanently stationed in Lledrith University,” she said with a snort. “I believe strongly that knowledge should be free. You owe me no debt for it. You’d be my apprentice until you weren’t.”
“Huh,” I said. I extended my hand to her. “Alright. Deal.”
She shook my hand, and it was done: I was now the apprentice of Meadow, not Orykson.
CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
Meadow stepped into Orykson’s hall, the wards descending around her and cutting off her access to her mana-garden.
Orykson stared at her from across the hall, his power dominating it, crushing everything in its path.
“This was your plan from the very beginning, wasn’t it?” he asked sourly. “You’d take my apprentice from me.”
“Your apprentice?” Meadow scoffed. “You’ve done nothing but try to turn him into a miniature version of yourself.”
“That’s what the world needs,” Orykson said.
“That is what the world needed,” Meadow corrected. “You and the Storm King are relics that should have passed on long ago.”
In response, Orykson killed that simulacrum, and another Meadow entered the room.
“How much of your well did you empty, to form that little spirit?” Orykson taunted. “So much power, so slow to recover, wasted on a spirit you’re not even bonded to.”
Well, he attempted to taunt. Meadow instead smiled and nodded.
“Indeed. A good investment, if I ever did make one.”
“Is that why you’re afraid to attack me, then?” Orykson asked.
“No,” Meadow said. “I don’t attack you because I have no reason to. I won.”
Orykson’s face twisted with rage and he killed her again, only for a third simulacrum to enter in her place. She stood there placidly, not attacking him, not even moving her mana to cast a spell, which only made him angrier.
“Fight me!” he shouted, launching another attack at her.
“I won’t give you the satisfaction,” she said, before his conjured deer gored her.
He rose, eyes flashing.
“That’s enough. If your simulacra won’t fight me, let’s try with your real body, and finally put you in the ground.”
He vanished in a flash, Aerde scanning the world for the location of his opponent’s true body. She used potions to somehow bolster her simulacra, so they had to sort through a number of false positives until – there.
Aerde locked onto her location, and Orykson cast a True Teleport, breaking through the feeble wards around the garden in the center of an old crater.
Meadow stood there, tending to her garden, watering a massive tree with a tin watering can, wearing simple brown overalls and gardener’s gloves. For all the world, she looked like a little old lady, tending to her garden.
Orykson reached his power out and attempted to stop Meadow’s heart, but she waved the attack off with her own power.
“Stop being a petulant, narcissistic, bully of an old man, Orykson,” she said. “You’re no better than Vivian, really. You’ve just had more time to build your power, and are thus at the top of the pecking order, not the bottom.”
“Wrong,” Orykson said, his voice echoing out across the landscape. He opened a portal to a pocket space, releasing a meteor to crush Meadow.
Meadow flicked a single seed at the meteor, and roots spread through it, breaking apart the densely forged mana and dissolving it back into nothingness. Then the roots folded back into a seed and fell into her hand once more.
He forged his life- and soul-eating dragons, releasing them to attack her, but roots burst from the seed and ran through the mana, sucking it away and feeding it to her like nutrients to a tree.
He began to tap into his contingencies, releasing deadly attacks, but roots rose from the ground of the garden around her, blocking attacks, breaking others, and forming layers of root armor over her form.
Aerde guided his attacks, but in the middle of her garden, there was a limit on how much assistance he could be in guiding them.
He thrust his hand out and tried to trap her in a pocket space, but pollen from flowers floated around her, cancelling out his magic.
“Why aren’t you attacking back?” he demanded. “Do you really think you have the mana to stand there and let me attack you until I run dry? I have eight centuries more mana than you do.”
“Oh, you’re right, of course,” Meadow said agreeably. “But attacking you isn’t my goal.”
She clicked her fingers, and Orykson’s eyes shot open as he and Aerde finally figured it out…
…half a second too late.
The flows of roots, motion of pollen in the air, and spinning petals all fell into place.
Of the universal applications of magic, like wardcrafting or enchanting, Orykson had never paid too much attention to alchemy. It had always seemed foolish to him – why expend effort to create a temporary elixir?
At best, you could create potions that permanently enhanced yourself, but those were difficult and expensive, and usually had alternatives in spellcraft or enchanting. No, alchemy was useful, but not his path. Wardcrafting had always been his discipline of choice.
But he still knew enough about alchemy to understand the most basic principles.
And all around him, in the air, the mana and power of every one of these plants was draining into Meadow, while certain specific parts linked and were bolstered with Meadow’s mana. Those linkages empowered one another, building and uniting faster than he could rot them away.
He couldn’t help but laugh. Meadow had been clever, that much was certainly true. Her little domain inside a crater was no simple garden.
The entire crater was the belly of a single, massive cauldron.
As the alchemical process completed, a single drop of shimmering opalescent liquid struck him on the bare skin of his nose like a drop of rain before a thunderstorm.
His powers vanished, and his control over the air currents died. His access to his mana-garden vanished. Even the spells woven through his body dimmed, though they could never be fully disabled.
The effects of this single great potion, crafted specifically to counter his magic, felt like trying to break through one of Tom’s anti-magic fields.
Mentally, he and Aerde both unanimously agreed that they needed to upgrade the level of danger that she posed. They’d thought he’d had her measure, but the sheer amount of effort and skill it took to arrange something like this?
It wasn’t a measure of power. No, power he could deal with.
